TONY MOTT is one of a kind. With 30 years in Rock n Roll Photography including touring with the Rolling Stones three times, he’s photographed Nicole Kidman, Bob Dylan and Fleetwood Mac… and even took some snaps of our host. Listen to Part 1 of this conversation via the link below. Created, produced, hosted by Bradley McCaw. Mixed by James Osbourne Listen to Part 1 of this conversation here Watch video of this episode Follow the RC Music Playlist Check out Tony's photos ———————————————————————— Find Brad Website: https://www.bradleymccawofficial.com Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/bradleymccawofficial Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/bradleymccawofficial Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/@Bradleymccawtv Musicals: Website: Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/bradleymccawmakesmusicals/ Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/bradleymccawmakesmusicals/ Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/@BradMcCawMakesMusicals ———————————————————————— Find James: https://www.instagram.com/jimmy_osborn98/ ———————————————————————— Listen to Part 1 of this conversation here Watch video of this episode Follow the RC Music Playlist Check out Tony's photos About Tony Mott: After over 30 years of a career in Rock n Roll Photography including touring with the Rolling Stones three times amongst others, Tony decided to branch out into Film and TV Stills Photography commencing in 2005 with the feature, Suburban Mayhem. Tony has worked on numerous features and television series since and has become a sought after photographer in the field. A 30 year retrospective of Tony’s work “What A Life” is currently touring Australia after opening at the State Library of NSW in Sydney . Tony lives in Sydney with his wife Libby and two children Harvey and Lucinda Mott and his cat “kitten caboodle”. Except from Tony Mott’s website: Trainspotting… travel around the world… life as a Chef on the high seas, a passion for music and few photos along the way. Welcome to Tony’s Mott’s story – so far. I was born in April, 1956, (that makes me sort of old) and raised in Sheffield, England, quite normally by mum and dad, Mary and Brian Moulds. I was trained as a chef at Sheffield Polytechnic and in 1976 I left England, arriving in Australia for the first time. Using my training I worked in Sydney at the Opera House and the Gazebo before helping a friend open a restaurant in Armidale, New South Wales, called The Blackboard Menu, but I had to leave after six months because I only had a limited working visa. It was at this point that I realised I wanted to live in Australia permanently. I returned to England with the intention of securing a permanent visa, which didn’t eventuate. Refusing to allow a little thing like a visa to stand in the way of escaping the UK, I managed to get a job on the SS Oriana as a chef, a wonderful job that lasted two years and took me to over 60 countries as diverse and interesting as Puerto Rico, Egypt, Panama, India, the Caribbean Islands, all around the Mediterranean, Nordkapp (where the sun never goes down and all its inhabitants are bonkers) and elsewhere. It was during this time I developed a strong sense of wanderlust, an affliction which has taken me to India seven times and helped me traverse the Himalayas on a number of occasions. In fact, to celebrate my 40th birthday I had to make a choice between getting pissed in Redfern or walking the Annapurna Circuit with my best friend, I chose the latter. Eventually my job on the ship came to an end and brought me back to Australia and in 1981 I finally managed to settle here permanently. I got my old job back at the Gazebo Hotel in King Cross, which, as it turns out was a perfect location to embark on the next stage of my life. I’ve often thought about my penchant for travel and trainspotting (that’s a whole other story right there!) and always go back to my childhood in Sheffield. When I was about eight or nine years old my mum and dad used to visit the local pubs, including one called the Castle Inn. My sister and I used to sit on the wall outside with our crisps and fizzy pop watching the trains go by. From this point we could see the trains disappear into a tunnel and I always wanted to know what was on the other side of that tunnel. Eventually I got to the other side of the tunnel and just kept on going!! Finally I got to and settled in Sydney. In the early 1980s Sydney had a brilliant live music scene. Every night of the week you could see any number of excellent bands at any number of excellent venues, right across the city. Working as a chef meant I usually finished work around midnight, not a bad situation for somebody like me who loved music. I’d leave work and hop into any given venue. On Monday nights I used to go to the Piccadilly Hotel in the Cross to see the Divinyls play. They had a residency at the venue and at this stage they were unsigned and largely unknown. Singer Chrissy Amphlett didn’t do a lot in those days. The stage persona she later became famous for was non-existent but, suddenly it seemed, she became a loony on stage wearing the schoolgirl uniform and gyrating about. During my days sailing the seven seas I’d developed a strong desire to document photographically the amazing places I saw. So every Monday night after work at the Gazebo I used to hone my fledgling skills by snapping away at the Divinyls. A lot of crap shots were taken but after four months the band’s manager, Vince Lovegrove, who’d obviously seen me shooting away, asked to see the shots, one of which he chose and used as a tour poster. I was well chuffed! To top it off he paid me 20 bucks – my first foray into professional photography. I was very green in those days, typified when Vince told me that my name was on the door for the band’s next gig. I had no idea what this expression meant and for the next two months I continued to pay my way into their shows. One night he saw me and said, “You know your name’s on the door, don’t you?” Not wishing to appear unsophisticated, I replied, “Yeah, I know. Isn’t that great,” thinking that somewhere – perhaps the band’s rehearsal studio – there was a door on which they’d written my name as a mark of respect. Just shows you how much I had to learn about the music industry. By 1983 the Divinyls tour poster had had a snowball effect on my career and before long other bands were asking me to shoot their gigs. One day I walked into the offices of the free paper On The Street, then in its infancy and long before the term street press had ever been coined. I started getting work through the paper. About a week before I went to “On The Street”, Margaret Cott, now publisher of “The Drum Media”, had just started as a layout girl and so began a professional relationship with her which lasts to this day. Within a year Margaret had become editor and I was photographing anything that moved, anywhere, anytime. All this and I was still working full-time at the Gazebo. It was 1985 and for a short period of time during that year I got married. My wife was Swedish (and to my knowledge still is) but I won’t go into the topic any further other than to say she now lives in Sweden and I still live in Sydney. Anyway, she had suggested I head back to England and so I did, and with my few contacts in the industry I spent the summer of 1986 drinking a lot and generally having a good time going to music festivals. I went to Reading, Milton Keynes and so on, seeing tons of bands. I haven’t managed to work out how to this day, but I managed to photograph Queen at Knebworth, which was a hell of an experience. I also went to Paris and New York that summer, purely as a drunken wanderlust thing as opposed to seriously pursuing anything professionally. When I got back to Australia, Mick Jagger was touring to promote his first solo album. While I was away, and unbeknownst to me, Jagger’s manager, Tony King had been trying to track me down wanting to hire me as Jagger’s tour photographer. To this day I have no idea who recommended me for the job but I’m extremely grateful. Eventually I made contact with Tony King and as it turned out they were not happy with whoever it was they had hired instead of me. By this stage the tour was in Melbourne so I went down and met Tony in his hotel room. I don’t think I would be giving anything away when I say that Tony King is what you would describe as an effervescent gay man and when I met him he enthusiastically expounded the virtues of Sydney. “Oh I love Sydney,” he said, “so many sailors in the one city.” I thought, what have I got to do to get this gig? Tony King, it should be pointed out, is a lovely man and I have always gotten on extremely well with him on a professional basis. But that was the start of my relationship with Mick Jagger and eventually the Rolling Stones. It was an enormous break which has resulted in me touring with the Stones three times. As I’ve said, I have no idea how I got the gig because I was only reasonably well-known as a live photographer in Sydney at that point. And to think I nearly missed out because I was getting legless overseas!! To illustrate how absurd the music industry can be at times, at the end of tour party I could hear people behind me talking about the tour photographer and how “he’s just come back from working in London, Paris and New York, don’t you know”. I suddenly realised they were talking about me! Little did they know I was basically having a good time in these places and not doing the glamorous jobs they imagined. As a consequence of the Jagger gig I toured in the same year with Bob Dylan and Fleetwood Mac. I wasn’t any better as a photographer but once I had gigs of that calibre in my CV I looked so much better. That p
